Tuesday, September 20, 2005
Fabienne
She has no hands. She is sitting in an unladylike manner, probably in the same spot she landed after falling hours ago. Her hair is perfectly pixie flipped. Her face is vacant and consists of three tiny shapes. She's not just drunk, she has a substance abuse problem. I guess it happens to the most magical of all of us. I did not draw her, I found her, she found me.
